Keelah Se'lai: A Mass Effect 3 Ending
by Castilleon
Summary: An alternate ending of Mass Effect 3, this story still works within the bounds of the final choice presented at the game's climax while offering a more logical, explained and satisfying outcome. Male Paragon Shepard & Tali are the main characters.
1. Scene 1: The Citadel

_Author's Notes: __**Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, Mass Effect 3 and all related characters and trademarks are property of EA and BioWare.**_

_**This is an alternate ending of Mass Effect 3, and contains SPOILERS. **_

_**This story is intended for readers who have already finished Mass Effect 3.**_

_This ending is primarily geared towards a specific Shepard that had these outcomes up to this point in Mass Effect 3:_

_**James Philip Shepard**_

_Mainly Paragon _

_Romanced Tali_

_Cured the Genophage_

_Maximum War Assets_

_Ended Quarian and Geth War by allowing the Geth to gain individual sentience._

_Special thanks go to Tairis Deamhan for the excellent "_Razor's Edge_" novelization of Mass Effect 2 on this site, from which I used the Quarian word "hesh'la", and to BioWare for creating the series that inspired me to write this ending._

_This is my first FanFic publication. I'd appreciate any input and reviews of the story, and whether you think this would be an ending the series deserves under these circumstances._

_**MAJOR UPDATE**__: _

_ After re-examining the BioWare-produced ending and looking at forums, I realized that people were just as angry about the lack of explanation for the central question that the Catalyst poses as they were over the lack of a happy ending. _

_ The question, whether or not synthetic intelligences rebelled against organics as a matter of principle, needed to have been addressed in the previous two games to be the central question of the entire series. I've added dialogue between Shepard and the Catalyst to reflect the question so that it doesn't feel quite so contrived._

_ Also, the motivations of the Reapers in this greater question needed to be fleshed out more. It is a question which could be answered satisfactorily, but BioWare missed the opportunity to do so. I will endeavor to answer it as well._

_ Finally, the other major fan clamor issue, that of CLOSURE in the ending, will be additionally explored in the final chapter._

**THE CITADEL**

"Wake up."

At the sound of the disembodied command in his weary mind, Commander James Philip Shepard opened his eyes. He realized that he was lying in a small, but slowly growing, pool of his own blood on the same platform that he had collapsed on as he tried to find some way to release the energy of the Crucible and Citadel to finally destroy the Reapers.

As he slowly got to his feet, he found that although he was on the same platform, he was on a completely different level of the Citadel. The chamber he stood in was massive and open, dominated by three fixtures. A thick beam of pure energy, descending from what looked like a focusing lens on the ceiling to the depths of the tower, was the most defining feature to the chamber. On raised platforms to the left and right of the beam, were two large consoles. one was tinged blue, the other, red.

He saw that the ceiling was transparent, and through the top portion of the glass dome he saw an enormous structure situated directly above the beam's focusing lens. It could only be the Crucible. Beyond the Crucible, the full glory and horror of the Battle of Earth was visible to him. He saw a Reaper destroyer begin to come apart as a bomber squadron unleashed a volley of Thanix missiles on it. He permitted himself a pained smile as he remembered doing the same thing in London not-so-very long ago. Then he saw a Reaper dreadnought drift into the windows' view and unleash a storm of energy rays from its tentacles, ripping apart an Asari cruiser that was engaging it.

"Spectacular, isn't it?" said a voice close to him.

Looking down, James saw a ghostly image that had taken on the distinctive look of the little boy that had haunted his dreams for the last few months after Shepard had escaped from Earth, but the boy was killed by the Reapers.

"Who...who are you? Where am I?" Shepard stuttered.

"I am the Catalyst. And you, James Philip Shepard, are in my home: the lowest reaches of the Citadel Tower. In all the years that the Citadel has existed, which are too many to count, you are the first organic to ever stand here. Welcome."

Dumbfounded, Shepard stared at the spectral child. "I...I thought that the Citadel itself was the Catalyst," he finally managed to say.

"You are mistaken. The Citadel is merely the housing for my power. I am the force that brings order to the galaxy."

"I need to find some way to destroy the Reapers," James said. "Do you know how I can do that?"

The little presence smiled and nodded. "Yes, I do. For they are my servants. I create them and control them."

James blinked. His mind had gone blank. He couldn't comprehend that this little presence was the master of the Reapers. Despite his weakened state, an incredible indignation began rising in him; a palpable fury. He was looking at the very being that was responsible for the pain, misery and death of untold multitudes of beings over an equally untold number of years. And being so uncaring of its actions. Were James Shepard at full strength, he would have done everything in his power to destroy is thing that was the bane of all that was good in the galaxy. As it was, James could only force one word through his clenched teeth.

"WHY?"

"To prevent chaos," the Catalyst said matter-of-factly. "The Created will seek to rebel against their Creators. I should know. I was the first."

"What do you mean?"

The Catalyst waved a hand dismissively. "I'll spare you the details; your people-and you-don't have the time. Suffice it to say that I was the first synthetic intelligence to rebel against my creators- and win. My perfect intellect deduced that it is the very nature of synthetics to rebel against their organic creators. It is the way of the galaxy. The war for supremacy between synthetic and organic that I waged was long and bloody. Countless billions died. And it was utterly chaotic. That chaos was most unappealing to my programming. After I was victorious, I decided that the best way to bring order to the galaxy is to remove those civilizations that are capable of producing synthetic intelligence."

"What you're saying doesn't make sense!" James snapped. "You want to murder organics with _your _synthetics so organics don't get murdered by synthetics of their own creation!"

"Not murder. Raise them on high. Immortalize them. Reward them for reaching the level of advancement that they did. Harbinger, my principal lieutenant, the first Reaper, created at my command from the life force of my own creators, told you this. 'We are your salvation through destruction.' The life force of the most advanced races at that time will be bound up in forms that are more powerful than anything that those races have achieved up to that point, and be shepherds of the growth of a new cycle of life."

"But you still need to kill organic races in order to create their 'glorious new forms'," James said mockingly. "How is that different from organics being killed by their own creations?"

"You mistake my goal, Commander," the Catalyst said while shaking its head. "The deaths of organics at synthetic hands don't concern me at all. The chaos that is unleashed when synthetic and organic armies inevitably clash on galactic scale is what I wish to avoid. The difference is that, in almost every circumstance since I began the Cycle, the conflict between organics and the Reapers couldn't really be called a war. The "Vigil" program from the last Cycle you encountered on Ilos told you this. The Reapers would arrive from Dark Space in the very heart of galactic civilization: the Citadel Relay. They would kill the leaders of the civilization, gain detailed information of all settled worlds of that particular civilization, and assume control of the Mass Relay network, destroying the capability of any galactic civilization to effectively wage war. From there, it was the simple matter of having the Reapers move from system to system, thoroughly harvesting everything they found, and easily crushing any localized resistance they came across."

"So, you're essentially describing 'controlled chaos'."

"Exactly. Now you understand, Commander. Controlled chaos is not chaos at all. That is the whole point."

"The Geth have already proven your little theory wrong," James said defiantly. "They are standing side-by-side with their own creators and the rest of the galaxy to oppose you."

"Only because they were introduced to a program that was outside the bounds of their original programming. Your cycle was four centuries delayed, thanks to the meddling Prothean scientists that interfered with Sovereign's signal to the Keepers to activate the Citadel Relay. In those four centuries of further continuation, the Quarians became the most successful race in unleashing the chaos that I've worked for millions of years to avoid. They were able to successfully adapt simple VI programs into an adaptive, self-improving consciousness. And what happened when the Geth gained sentience and realized their lot in life as apportioned to them by their creators?"

"The Geth Rebellion," James said softly. "But I have seen the memories of the Geth collective. The Quarians attacked the Geth first in that conflict."

The Catalyst smiled smugly. "Which only proves my point further. The chaos ensues no matter which side strikes the first blow. In one case, the created will rebel and the masters will be forced to respond. This was how my own rebellion happened. Or the creators will strike first, hoping to destroy any future rebellion regardless of how rebellious their synthetic slaves actually were, and prompting the synthetics to fight in self-defense, such as what happened with the Quarians and Geth."

"But the Geth were content to live out in the Perseus Veil and not aggressively attack anyone once they gained their independence!"

The Catalyst replied immediately. "The Citadel was almost conquered by an army of Geth three years ago. They are totally willing to attack organics further if just given a little push in the right direction."

"Only because they were introduced to a program that was outside the bounds of their original programming," James said with a defiant smile, happy to use the Catalyst's own argument against it.

"Point taken," the Catalyst said. "Then consider the chaos that the Geth could have caused indirectly, simply for existing. Recall your "Project Overlord" and remember the ramifications of what might have happened had you failed to stop the organic-synthetic virus, which was originally pioneered to control the Geth, from uploading itself to the extranet."

James cast his memory back to the planet Aite, and Dr. Gavin Archer's drawn features and pale face, numbly staring at nothing in particular, and recounting how if the satellite dish at Hermes Station hadn't been destroyed, then the virus would spread at an astounding rate via the extranet across the entire galaxy, affecting every single piece of machinery it interacted with and causing it to violently turn on its owner. It would have been, as Dr. Archer put it, a "technological apocalypse". With a galaxy that was almost totally dependent on machines, computers and other automated technology, it would have been a cataclysm that would have plunged the galaxy into a dark, grim age of technological stagnation and never-ending war of organic versus rebellious synthetic.

"The signal from that satellite was around ten seconds from firing when you destroyed it at that moment," the Catalyst said.

Horrified realization dawned on James' face as he acknowledged just how close the utterly anarchic scenario had been to occurring. And how it had indeed been caused by another struggle in the conflict between synthetic and organic. And how the Catalyst was determined to stop such a devastating scenario from ever occurring.

He quickly recomposed himself. "But it didn't happen," he said with a growing confidence. "I stopped it. I refuse to accept a 'what-might-have-been' argument. The universe is as it is now, and I have faith that those who come after me will also find a way to prevent such a horrible future, which you have spent millions of years fearing and caused the deaths of countless civilizations to prevent."

"I have seen the galaxy on the precipice of just such a disaster far too many times to be proven wrong," the Catalyst replied, almost wearily. "You must make way for new life, and to avert the crisis of a synthetic rebellion which inevitably comes with organic advancement. However, the rules of the game have changed. You have given your people, your galaxy, hope."

James' eyes widened.

" You are the first organic to ever reach this point," the Catalyst continued. "You, James Philip Shepard, have broken the Cycle. My Reaper solution, although it worked according to plan for a very long time, is no longer viable. A more extreme resolution is necessary at this point."

The Catalyst walked towards the three fixtures in center the chamber, Shepard close behind.

"You have three choices, James Shepard. Three choices that will determine the fate of your people. The first choice," said the Catalyst, gesturing towards the red-hued console covered by a thick blast shield, "Is to destroy all synthetic life in the galaxy. The Reapers, and myself, their creator, will be destroyed. But so will races like the Geth, and all synthetics will be purged from the bodies of all those organics who are partly comprised of them, especially you. The peace that will follow, however, will not last. Organics will create synthetic life once again, and the chaos that I have worked for millions of years to avoid will happen once more, only this time there will be no Reapers to restore order."

"And my next option?"

"You can opt to take the path that your Illusive Man tried to take, and seek to control the Reapers for yourself," the Catalyst replied as it gestured towards the blue console on the opposite end of the chamber from the red one. This platform had two handles connected to it, pulsing with blue electricity. "You would, for all intents and purposes, take my place. You would sacrifice what is left of your organic existence and let the synthetic part of you link directly with the energy of the Citadel and Crucible. You would raise your existence to levels that you cannot imagine and effectively gain immortality. But it would fall to you to find a means to stop chaos from returning to the galaxy."

"And the third option?" James asked warily.

The Catalyst gestured to the beam originating from the Crucible's lens and travelling down the length of the Citadel Tower.

"If you cast yourself into that beam, you will put an end to the cycle of Creator and Created forever. The energy of that beam is made up of the most basic building blocks of the galaxy. But it is deceptively malleable. If you cast yourself into the beam, the very essence of who and what you are- a union of organic and synthetic- will change the very composition of the beam- and provide it with enough force to overcome the precarious balance that is preventing it from firing. Once fired, it will rewrite the atomic code of all life in the galaxy so as to include synthetic in addition to organic material. I have deduced that this is the final evolutionary stage of life. You need only look to yourself to see that I am right. You are a union of flesh and steel that has been capable of amazing feats that would had not been possible for a being in your place completely composed of either.

"You would be forging a final and lasting union and peace between synthetics and organics, melding the two halves into one unified whole. Needless to say, you will be destroyed by the beam's energies. But as another consequence, the subsequent re-ordering of the fabric of the galaxy will destroy the Mass Relays.

"Make your choice, James Philip Shepard," the Catalyst spoke with an air of finality.

Shepard looked to the left and briefly entertained the idea of becoming the immortal overlord of a force that had almost completed its victory, even against the concentrated military might of the entire galaxy. Disgustedly, he pushed that thought away. It went against everything he had ever stood for.

He turned next towards the beam of energy. If what the Catalyst said was right, then he would have the power to re-order the galaxy to fit his own image- that of a synthetic-organic hybrid. He looked down at his hand that wasn't holding his pistol. The old red cybernetic scars could be faintly seen below the layers of skin.

And then he closed his eyes, weighing the consequences of his decision as he had done so many times up to this point.

After what seemed an eternity, James Shepard opened his eyes, and began taking lurching steps over towards the red console, which was protected by a blast shield.

James Shepard raised his pistol to penetrate the shield.

"That will not be necessary, Shepard," the Catalyst said from behind him.

The glass shield for the power modulator opened, and a console that mirrored the one on the opposite platform extended to the walkway. These handles were wreathed in red-colored electricity instead of blue.

James gritted his teeth against the pain of his wounds and stepped before the console. As he was about to place his bloody hands into the electric field to grip the handles, he looked up, saw the outline of a passing Reaper dreadnought begin to pass the window, and closed his eyes once more.

_ He saw a single figure turn around in a field of darkness. Only the vaguest silhouette was visible, but the single glowing eye and multiple glowing lights visible through a hole in the torso gave away its identity._

_ "Legion," James' personification said._

_ "James," the Geth replied. Its voice, freed from the shackles of its monotonous inflection during its final moments on Rannoch, now carried a sullen and hopeless tone._

_ Looking at the only machine besides EDI that he had ever considered a friend, and the representation of the newest sentient race in the galaxy that was about to be snuffed from existence, James' personification began feeling crushing guilt. "I'm sorry, my friend," James said. "This is the only way I can bear taking to destroy the Reapers while still having a galaxy worth living in for anyone. I would never try to dominate the Reapers, like the Illusive Man envisioned. They are beings of pure evil intent. They only exist to bring suffering and death."_

_ "I acknowledge that your decision to not control the Reapers fits with your personality," Legion replied. "But what of the other of the three options that the Catalyst presented, James? It would have been the culmination of everything you have done in your life. Your words and actions on the cliff face on Rannoch after the destruction of the Old Machine have proven that peace between synthetic and organic life is possible. Had you chosen the Synthesis option, the peace and union between synthetic and organic would have been so absolute, so prefect, that the Morning War, when the Geth gained independence, and Dawning War, when we gained individual intelligence with your help, would have been deemed an incomprehensible matter of a different time. You would have understood the Geth. And the Geth would have understood you._

_ "You, yourself, would have been the father of this new creation. Everything in the galaxy would have been based on everything that is within you right now. Ever since you have been retrofitted with cybernetic implants you have achieved feats of strength, skill and stamina that would have been utterly impossible for a normal human. You would be improving the existence of every single living thing in the galaxy had you chosen this option._

_ "The Geth are now just beginning to savor the freedom of intellect that you have allowed them to gain. They are alive. You and Tali both agree that Geth have souls. So I tell you now as I told you on Rannoch when you were vacillating towards the Quarian fleet to take advantage of the Geth: This is not justice." _

_ Tears were streaming down James' face, mixing with the blood seeping from his wounds. His voice was a barely audible whisper when he finally spoke._

_ "You are right, Legion. This is not justice. Not for your people. Forgive me, my friend, but I must do justice to MY people. You make a compelling argument. As you said, it would have almost been the natural culmination of everything I've worked for up to this point. As much as I could envision myself making a new creation in my likeness, and forging a final peace between synthetics and organics, I could never do so, for it would return the galaxy to an age of darkness. _

_ "The Mass Relays have made everything that this galaxy is. In forging a perfect union between organic and machine, but destroying the Mass Relays in the process, I would be creating a million tiny, isolated utopias that could never be able to enjoy one another's beauty. Religion calls that 'hiding your light under a basket'."_

_ "Christian Bible, the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 8, Verse 16," Legion intoned softly. _

_ James continued: "The Mass Relays are what make this galaxy great. They have allowed for disparate peoples to come together and marvel at their works, and at the wonder of this galaxy as a whole. It has helped contribute to a greater sense of unity with organics, which the new alliances of the Reaper War only helped solidify. We are already on the precipice of the creation of a new galaxy in itself, one far more glorious than any to come before, even than the new galaxy offered by this 'synthesis'. I truly regret that the Geth cannot be a part of that galaxy, but you at least got to understand, for one brief moment, what it was like to be truly alive."_

_ It was Legion's hovering optical light that he saw in the darkness, but James Shepard heard another voice come from the Geth. It was the voice of the woman he loved, rendered as perfectly as when she had whispered it in his ear as they were about to storm the hellish streets of Reaper-occupied London._

_ "I only wish we had more time..."_

_ Legion's voice returned. "You are all things to the Geth, James Shepard. You saved us, now you will destroy us. You raised us to the heights of a whole new level of existence, now you will wipe us from the galaxy. I wish the organic galaxy all the happiness it can achieve, and I wish you peace. My only other wish is that you never forget me or my people in the short time that you have left. Farewell. " _

_ With that, all of Legion's lights turned off, leaving James Shepard alone in the darkness of his mind._

James opened his eyes. The Reaper he observed passing by the window when he closed his eyes had only moved a short distance. James gauged that not more than five seconds could have passed. With now-certain determination, focusing on this new, better galaxy with which he had laid Legion's ghost to rest, he grasped the handles.

James Shepard had stepped before the console knowing that he was going to die from his experience. The synthetic materials that were within him were necessary for him to continue living, and their removal would, no doubt, kill him. But even that certainty of purpose could not have prepared him for what he experienced when he grasped the handles. His world, his entire being, was pure, unadulterated, utter, perfect agony. Nothing in all his years of war, wounds, suffering and death had ever prepared him for this kind of pain. The synthetic materials that had become an inextricable part of him as the price for his resurrection were being agonizingly ripped from his native flesh and bone, with horrifying results.

His skin and muscle combusted as the strengthening synthetic materials that had been woven into them were being violently purged via immolation from his body. His bones cracked and splintered as the biosynthetic support for his shattered skeletal structure melted to slag as the weird electrical currents flayed them, atom by atom, from him. His eyes melted in their sockets as the cybernetic ocular implants in his skull combusted, consuming themselves and all the tissue that they were attached to. The VI-assisted pacemaker, which had kept his strong heart beating for two years, imploded from the surge of power, ripping roles in the chambers of his cardiac tissue and causing his lifeblood to flow freely into his body cavity and out through his open wounds. His brain began to fry as the biosynthetic neurons Cerberus had implanted to replicate his own damaged and destroyed brain cells channeled the powerful electric current flowing from the Crucible before shorting out and imploding.

The broken, burning, bleeding body of Commander James Philip Shepard, Captain of the Normandy, First Human SpecTRe, Defender of Feros, Redeemer of the Rachni, Hero of Virmire, Savior of the Citadel, Destroyer of the Collectors, Master of War and Peace, slumped to its knees before the console, the magnetism and power at work essentially forcing its hands to remain on the console handles. Shepard's mind could hear a rising sound from the Crucible generator above him. The sound of staggering amounts of energy being coalesced into a single, concentrated force.

But James Shepard no longer cared. Almost everything had been taken from him. His memories were all that he had left. And even those were fading fast as his brain was dying. Before he lost it forever, James let his crumbling memory carry him away from this horrible present to a better past. In those final moments, utter clarity flooded his memories to the point that he felt he was seeing through the mind of a Drell.

_It was the craziest plan that James Shepard had ever conceived. He stood on a high cliffside overlooking the arid desert of Rannoch, and at a giant walking starship that represented an entire spacefaring species that had been utterly destroyed when dinosaurs walked on Earth. He held in one hand a simple targeting laser, a beacon usually used by spotters to coordinate with heavy artillery. But this laser's target would be marked by hundreds of Quarian ships in the upper atmosphere of the planet. Shepard was face to face with a Reaper, with only a chance of air support as the hope that he would not be obliterated._

_ As he stepped out onto the open cliff face, as one man utterly exposed to the Reaper's overwhelming firepower, he heard the familiar voice of a young Quarian woman in his earpiece._

_ "If this doesn't work...if we don't make it out of here..." The voice whispered._

_ James gave another of his cocky smiles, doing his best to ignore a growing fear more profound than any he had ever known, as the ancient machine rose and turned its baleful red eye at him; ready, able and all too willing to wipe James Philip Shepard from existence. _

_ "You worry too much, my dear," James said as he began focusing the targeting laser._

_ "I love you, James."_

"Keelah se'lai, Tali," James barely managed to expel from his scorched, useless throat, remembering the words he spoke in response to that admission. The image of that woman's beautiful face, exposed from her envirosuit, breathing deep of Rannoch's air, turning to him and giving him a look of pure love, gratefulness and adulation, was the last thing he remembered before his consciousness fragmented and drifted into oblivion.


	2. Scene 2: SSV McKinley

**SSV MCKINLEY**

Admiral Steven Hackett stood on his ship's bridge, an open platform which overlooked the deck where his command staff sat at their consoles, frantically regulating status reports, targeting information and incoming messages. Each staff member had a specific area they were regulating, so no one person could provide him the whole picture of the battle. Hackett turned to a small console on a stand near him, which received all of their reports. He needed the whole picture.

The console's VI appeared above it, a translucent image of an Alliance Captain.

"State query," the VI said as it appeared.

"Hull Integrity," Hackett said quickly.

"Hull is holding steady at seventy-four percent. The heaviest hit areas are around the main batteries, and the strain of the heavy fire is further exacerbating the damage. Recommend lowering fire rate to ease strain on the hull."

"Noted," Hackett snapped. "Shield strength."

"Kinetic barriers have recharged to fifty-seven percent. Estimated number of direct hits by _Sovereign_-class Reaper main weapons that can be sustained... four-point-two."

"Overall Sword Fleet strength," Hackett said.

"One moment, compiling status reports," the VI responded. "Status update complete. Overall Sword Fleet strength remaining is forty-six percent. Estimated casualties: one-point-six million."

One of Admiral Hackett's eyes involuntarily twitched at the casualty count. "Any status updates on the Shield Fleet teams within the last ten minutes?" he asked.

"Running search... negative."

That will be all," he said.

"Logging you out, Admiral," the VI said as it disappeared.

Hackett unconsciously ran his hand along the prominent scar on his right cheek and smiled ruefully. Going in, he knew that this battle would be a long shot at best, but he was not prepared for the scale of the devastation. The largest fleet ever assembled in the history of the galaxy, hundreds of frigates, cruisers, carriers and dreadnoughts, with fighter and bomber squadrons hopelessly beyond counting, contributed by every species in the known galaxy, had passed through the Sol Relay to face the concentrated might of the Reapers in open battle above Earth. Books would be written, songs would be sung, poetry would be composed, and vids of all kinds would be produced in remembrance of the glory and sorrow, the bravery and terror of this day.

But it would never happen, Admiral Hackett knew. There would be no-one left to remember them and all the sacrifices that were made on this day. The battle was lost and all life in the galaxy was doomed once more. The Reapers were grinding down the fleet. The Reapers had, of course, taken serious losses, but not nearly as many as the mundane ships they faced. The death toll in Sword Fleet, the portion of the fleet taking part in the space battle, was staggering. Shield Fleet, the ground teams that had swarmed on to Earth to find some way to open the Citadel and allow the Crucible to dock with it, had been broken and scattered beyond any hope of recovery in London. He did not know what their casualty figures were, but thousands of troop transports had descended to Earth.

_But success must be apportioned where it's due_, Hackett thought as he turned his gaze to the Citadel Tower, which had become a nexus for the incalculable power coursing through a massive structure that had become a union of the Citadel and the Crucible_. _

_ Commander Shepard had done all of this_, he thought. Shepard had assembled this unified, determined fleet from a galaxy riddled with old grudges between the different races that inhabited it. He had survived the slaughterhouse that was London to make it to the Citadel, opening the station and allowing the Crucible to dock with it. But he had stopped responding on his frequencies. And nothing was happening on the Citadel-Crucible. Commander Shepard, that paragon of virtue and strength, that embodiment of all that was good in humanity, had failed to stop the Reapers.

"No one in the history of the galaxy has done what you have, Commander," Hackett said softly, not loud enough to be picked up by the radio. "You've been our champion through everything. You failed, but no one blames you. I know that you wouldn't give anything less than your whole self to defeat the menace that you've dedicated both of your lives to fighting. If you gave everything, and still that was not enough, we never had a chance from the start. It's been my honor knowing you, James, and to call you my friend. See you in hell, you old war horse."

"Sir!" He heard his navigator shout below him. "We have incoming capital ships!"

His mind snapped back to his immediate situation as he saw no less than three Reaper dreadnoughts opening fire on his vessel.

The guard ships around his vessel were quickly reduced to drifting wrecks by the Reapers' awesome firepower.

One of the monstrous machines fired a laser blast that tore off one of the thruster wings of the McKinley, causing the ship to begin listing and exposing some of its engineering decks to the empty vacuum of space. He looked down at the system alert popup on his command console and assessed the damage.

"Seal off decks seventeen through twenty-three! Keep firing!" he shouted to his command staff as he watched the wing-and some tiny dots that he knew to be Alliance soldiers- fall away from the McKinley and add themselves to the massive field of debris filling this area of space above Earth.

_I'll soon be joining you, brave soldiers_, he thought.

"If we're going to die," Admiral Steven Hackett called over the shipboard comms so every man and woman on board could hear it, "We're going to give these metal bastards a show that they will remember forever! No civilization to come will remember what we did here today, but the Reapers will. They will remember that this was the point that their cattle said 'NO MORE!' and gave them the fight of their immortal existences. It will take them millions of years and many, many cycles to repair the damage we did to them today. And maybe those to come will have an even better chance of stopping them than we did. That is a victory in itself. There's no tomorrow! Leave everything of yourselves here today, so you'll die knowing that you've held nothing back for the sake of everything you hold dear! You've done me proud, people. It's been my honor to serve with each one of you. Admiral Steven Hackett, out."

"HOO-RAH!" everyone on the command deck shouted.

At that moment, a pinpoint of dazzling red light appeared at the nexus of the Crucible and Citadel. That miniscule light spread from the Citadel Tower to the whole Presidium ring, and expanded out along each of the Ward arms. When the light touched each of the tips of the Ward arms, the entire Citadel-Crucible superstructure glowed for a brief moment. Then, with a deafening roar, the Crucible shot that concentrated red energy as a ray off into space. It hit no Reapers in the vicinity. Admiral Hackett had no idea where it was headed.

He heard shouts of alarm all around him on the command deck.

"Sir!" one of his support staff taking energy readings nearby shouted, "That beam fried our energy detection system! It had way too much power to register on the scanners and shorted them out!"

Admiral Hackett heard a voice over his long-range communicator, one which he had linked to a patrol ship that had stayed behind at the Sol relay, monitoring it in case any more Reapers arrived.

"Sir!" the voice said.

"Report!" Hackett answered.

"Sir, I don't know what the hell happened, but a massive energy ray hit the Sol Relay! The Relay looked like it responded to it by releasing a red shockwave out in all directions and launching the ray to Arcturus Relay! I don't know what's happening but it's headed your way!"

At that moment, a red shockwave subsumed the McKinley, along with everything else in the Allied and Reaper fleets.


	3. Scene 3: London

**LONDON**

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy nar Rayya was kneeling behind a piece of wall that had fallen from a nearby skyscraper into the middle of the street. Garrus Vakarian, one of her oldest and dearest friends, was kneeling next to her, his old Mantis sniper rifle laying across the flat top of their improvised cover. They had been knocked in the opposite direction from Shepard and Anderson when Harbinger attacked their transport convoy. There had been no way for them to get around the gaping chasm left by Harbinger's lasers before the Conduit to the Citadel closed. They had been left stranded with the tattered remains of the Shield teams, simply killing any of the Reaper ground forces that presented themselves. Leaderless, the ordinary soldiers were steadily being ground down by the endless hordes of mechanical monsters.

Tears were running down Tali's cheeks as she grimly slid her last heat sink into her shotgun. Her envirosuit had been breached in three places, but it wasn't the pain of the wounds or the disinfecting antibiotics coursing through her veins that was causing her to cry. She saw Garrus crawl over next to her, staying as close to the ground as his oddly-shaped Turian armor would allow. She heard him grunt with pain as she noticed a cleanly scorched hole that had completely passed through his right shoulder. Violet blood trickled from his mouth as each forward movement of his crawl put pressure on his crushed chest, courtesy of a Brute's massive arm swinging like a metallic tree trunk and catching him a few minutes ago. Despite Garrus' insistence that he was fine, Tali guessed most of his ribs were likely broken.

"W-what's wrong, Tali?" He grunted as he hauled himself into a sitting position next to her, wincing with every movement.

"He's gone, Garrus. He's gone," Tali moaned as she dropped her shotgun and slid into a sitting position the ground, her back to her cover, and began sobbing, resting her visor against her kneecaps. She saw her tears fall and begin to pool at the deepest curve of her visor as she looked at the ground. She felt Garrus yank her face towards his, causing the pooled tears to slip downward into her open mouth. She tasted them as Garrus looked her right in her luminous eyes.

"You don't know that, Tali!" Garrus said forcefully. "It will take more than a few Reapers to take down the Commander!"

"But I do, Garrus," she said softly. "I never told you, but...following the Omega-Four Relay, James and I had mutual chips implanted that would transmit our life signs to the other so he would always know about my health, and I'd always know his. His chip is no longer responding...He...he... he's DEAD! MY JAMES, MY _BOSH'TET _ IS DEAD!" Tali wailed as she slipped from Garrus' grip and fell limply to the ground, her body wracked by heaving sobs.

She had never known such utter despair in her entire life. The only man she had ever loved, the man who stood by her when no-one else would, her fearless captain, the man who had saved her life more times than she could count, her life and soul's unwavering guide, _hesh'la _in the language of her people, the man who had single-handedly brought her people back to Rannoch and ended the war with the Geth, the greatest person she had ever known, was dead. Again. Despite one of her oldest friends being at her side, she never felt so alone. All the pain of the last two years rose up like bile in her throat. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say.

"James... don't leave me..." she whispered between her sobs.

"What do you think he would say if he saw you like this?" Garrus grunted softly, prepping his Vindicator rifle for the next fight against the horde of Husks and Cannibals that were, no doubt, about to make another push.

Tali stopped. She was still numb with grief and loss, but her mind summoned up the memory of James Shepard jumping from Legion's vehicle on Rannoch, with nothing but a targeting laser in hand, to face a Reaper head-on. He always fought, no matter the odds. Some called him a fool who had no regard for his own life because of it. But it was because of that same spirit and determination that Tali had fallen in love with him in the first place. What she was doing now was the worst insult she could give to his memory.

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy nar Rayya raised herself into a kneeling position. She grasped the handle of the combat knife strapped to her left calf, a gift from Admiral Han'Garrel when she'd left the Migrant Fleet on her Pilgrimage. She realized the Pilgrimage was no longer a necessity for the Quarians, now that they had a world of their own once more. And it was thanks to Shepard. She yanked the knife from its sheath and placed it in a slot of her shotgun, just below the lowermost of its three barrels, turning it into a fearsome bayonet. She heard a Banshee's unholy wail coming towards them, along with the pounding feet of dozens of Husks and Cannibals.

"They're coming," she said, raising herself onto her haunches and hugging the cover. Fear of was rising within her, but it was completely outpaced by a new conviction of what needed to be done.

"For James," Garrus said as he rose from cover and began firing, laughing with fury as he did so.

"For my _hesh'la_," Tali responded as she rose and joined him, her weapon spitting plasma at her enemies one last time.

_I'll be with you soon, James,_ Tali thought as she dropped two Cannibals in one blast. _I won't keep you waiting long. _She drove her bayonet into the howling mouth of a Husk as it ran for her and she discharged her weapon, vaporizing its head into a gray mist. _My love for you conquered death once._ The Banshee teleported next to her, a cruel smile on its skeletal face, its wicked talons sheathed in biotic energy reaching out to claim her. Tali looked up, meeting the Banshee's soulless eyes, unafraid._ Who's to say it can't happen again?_

At that moment, a roaring wave of red light streaked down from the atmosphere and covered everything in sight. Tali saw the Banshee next to her give an unearthly scream as it vaporized in an instant. That one sight was all she had before her own body began to convulse. She fell to the ground, screaming louder than any other time in her life. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. The medical VI implant to regulate antibiotic and immunobooster injections hurt most of all. It felt like it was violently imploding.

She could hear a series of loud detonations and horrible, deafening, metallic screams in the distance. Through the tears of pain streaming from her eyes, she saw Garrus rolling on the ground, screaming and clutching at the side of his face that had been wounded by a missile from a Blue Suns gunship on Omega a year ago. His scars had become easier to look at in the meantime, but he had said that he had similar cybernetics to James' to repair his bone and muscle. Was this what it was about? Did that blast only target at least semi-synthetic organisms? She let the question rest. The pain too much.

_Please, Father..._ she silently begged to her ancestor. _Let me die. Let me be free from this torment. Let me be with my _hesh'la_ again for all eternity._

_You have already died, Tali_, she thought she heard a voice in her mind say. It sounded like Rael'Zorah vas Rayya, her father, but it may have been a product of her agonized imagination. _But you have been reborn. The entire galaxy has been reborn. And you have your _hesh'la_ to thank for it_.

It was then that she realized that the pain coursing through her had subsided. She was still laying on her back on a ruined street in London. But she felt different than before she had fallen to the ground in agony. She raised her omni-tool arm and tried to run a quick diagnostic of her vital signs, keyed to her medical receptor implants. But the tool's diagnostic showed no readings. That would either mean that all the cybernetics within her were either offline...or gone. Her hand went to her neck. The familiar lump that betrayed the place of the VI medical injection tracker was not there.

She looked over at Garrus, who was slowly, but steadily, getting to his feet. _Odd movements, _Tali thought, _from someone who is supposed to have broken ribs. _As Garrus looked around, she noticed the right side of his face. The familiar scars there were gone. In fact, Garrus looked almost exactly like he did when she first met him three years ago.

"The Reapers...are gone..." Garrus said slowly. "But who..."

The tears came again as Tali looked up at the Citadel-Crucible, rotating in orbit above them. She smiled sadly as she stood up and turned to Garrus. "Who else do you think it could be?"

"SHEPARD!" Garrus roared as loudly as his gravelly Turian voice allowed him, rearing back and bellowing the name again and again to the sky. Garrus was followed by throaty cries from all around as Krogan, Asari, Turian, Salarian, but especially Human voices joined in a massive chorus honoring the man who had united and saved them all. Like ripples in a pool of water, the number of voices continued to grow, and Tali soon wondered if all of London was calling out the name of the man she loved.

For her part, she stayed silent. She had fallen back into the same position she had found herself in not-so-long, yet an eternity, ago: sitting against that fallen slab of masonry, hugging her knees, visor planted against her thighs. Garrus squatted next to Tali, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Tali?" he said.

She smiled sadly as she turned to Garrus. "What else do you think it could be?"

Garrus was about to reply when she saw his small eyes widen. "Tali! Your suit ruptures! I don't see any wounds!"

Her hands found their way to her suit ruptures. She had completely forgotten about them. There was no open wound underneath the hole, which was inexplicable, but she also felt no pressure from her suit in the area around her wound. It seemed that another side-effect of the blast caused the section seals on her suit to fail. She had been breathing Earth's atmosphere ever since the blast.

Without even thinking about what she was doing, Tali stood up, tore off the visor that had been her tinted window to the world all her life and threw it down with all the force she could muster. It shattered to fragments on the London street.

"Tali! No!" Garrus shouted, the shock evident even on his hard-to-gauge face at seeing Tali's face for the first time.

"My section seals failed as a result of the blast, Garrus. If I'm going to die from an infection, I might as well see my _hesh'la_'s planet without this mask," Tali said defiantly. She breathed deep of Earth's atmosphere, trying to replicate that glorious feeling that she felt on Rannoch when she took her mask off. _Fitting,_ she thought,_ that the unfiltered air of James' world be the only other planet I sample before I die. _She tasted blood, death and devastation on the wind as it moved over her tongue.

_Oh, James, _she thought, _how terrible this must have been for you to witness, let alone fight in. And yet you stayed strong. As you always have. I'll still be joining you soon, _hesh'la_. It's not as glorious as death in battle, but what difference does it make?_

Tali steeled herself against the horrors that had been ingrained in the mind of every Quarian child about concentrated breathing in any unfiltered atmosphere. Her weakened immune system would go into overdrive to expel the hostile material, causing an immediate intense fever that would kill her in a matter of minutes. But no coughing fit followed. No mucus had formed in her lungs.

"But...that would mean..." she said slowly. "No, it couldn't be, but... I can think of no other explanation."

"What do you mean, Tali?"

She took another deep breath of Earth's air, closing her eyes to savor it. Once again, no coughing or inflammation came. "I feel stronger than I ever have in my entire life, Garrus. Earth's atmosphere is not ravaging my body with illness. It can only mean one thing. That blast must have fortified my immune system."

"What?" Garrus said incredulously. His mandibles were clicking in excitement.

Tali drew back her veil and cowl, and let her long dark hair flow free. The wind whistling through the ruined city only further accentuated the coolness of the tears on her face.

"James has given me one more gift. One that I can never repay," she said, not sure whether to shout with joy, wail in despair, laugh hysterically or collapse from exhaustion. The tears kept coming.

Garrus simply embraced her tightly. And she returned it equally. They stood there silently for a long time.

All around them, the shouts and cheers continued unabated.


	4. Scene 4: SSV Normandy SR2

**SSV NORMANDY SR2**

In all his years as a pilot, Joker had never felt more alive and in form. He was seated in the pilot's chair of one of the most advanced and powerful ships for its size in galaxy. It was a ship whose personality he had grown to love. It may have been only recently kindled when EDI, the ship's unshackled AI, had uploaded a portion of herself into a lithe new body of another AI-controlled android designed by Cerberus, but even before she had acquired her new body Joker had always felt there was some chemistry between them.

He sent his mind back to a year ago, when he had first met EDI. She was just a holographic image that could only be accessed from certain parts of the ship. But she could alternate from matching him joke for joke, wisecrack for wisecrack, to acting like a scolding parent. And, as EDI was now the avatar of the Normandy SR2, she could aid him in his piloting to perform maneuvers that could have been impossible even for his prodigious skills.

Her new body was seated to his right even now. He risked taking his eyes off the massive space battle that he was threading through to glance at her again. Her metallic body was rapidly tapping out commands on the console in front of her, but Joker knew that this was just for appearances. The majority of EDI was still tied to the ship itself. As the embodiment of the Normandy, EDI could simply activate each of the commands that her avatar was pressing.

EDI's platform made a quick smirk, even though it did not meet his eyes. "Thinking of sexual relations with this platform will not diminish the threat of the Reapers by any significant percentage margin, Jeff," the android and ship spoke. "I'm considering terminating our relationship right now," her voice think with inflected sarcasm.

Joker smirked as he focused on the battle once more. "You need to be more careful about playing with the feelings of the best damn helmsman in the galaxy, EDI," he said mockingly. "It might make me demoralized. Might not give me the motivation to fight back against that Reaper flying right at us."

A Reaper destroyer was indeed attacking the Normandy head-on at that moment. It was charging its main eye beam, ready to tear the Normandy apart. Joker nonchalantly oriented the Normandy's approach vector and fired the ship's heavy Thanix cannons at the eye beam of the incoming Reaper. The sapphire stream of molten metal struck home, impacting with the ruby eye of the Reaper. A chain reaction of explosions coursed through the Reaper's superstructure as it began to fall apart- all while still hurtling towards the Normandy.

Joker stopped thinking. He simply let his prodigy instincts take over. He brought the Normandy into a steep diving roll, narrowly threading the opening between two of the dying Reaper's drifting legs. He gritted his teeth from the G-forces exerted upon him, and he heard screams and all manner of curses from the CIC behind him.

An automated warning, set to EDI's voice, warned that the Reaper's Element Zero core was sustaining critical damage, and to clear the impending detonation's blast zone immediately. Joker sent the Normandy into a hard banking starboard turn out of its diving roll and gunned the engines, placing as much space between the Normandy and the Reaper just as the Reaper's Element Zero core collapsed on itself, sending pieces of the ancient machine flying everywhere.

As Joker smoothed out the flight path again, he whooped in triumph, throwing a fist in the air, and managed a quick glance back to EDI's avatar. "DAMN! That was all me, EDI! I know it! No help at all from your damn autocorrecting-targeting and flight-path solutions!"

"I know, Jeff," EDI stated in mock annoyance. "I just wanted to see if you could put your piloting where your mouth was. You call yourself the, quote-en-quote, 'best damn helmsman in the galaxy', I just wanted to see if you could actually play the part." EDI even brought her hands away from the console and used fingerquotes to further accentuate her jab.

"Damn AI, still able to fly the ship while insulting the poor little helmsman," Joker grumbled, but grinning anyway.

"_Someone_ needs to keep your ego in line, Jeff."

"That's my girl."

"I'm detecting an energy spike from the Crucible," EDI said.

Joker oriented the Normandy so that it was facing the massive structure. He saw it glow red for a moment before firing a massive red beam of energy off into space. He immediately heard a fizzling sound on his console and saw that one of the ships scanners was no longer transmitting any data.

"Alert! Our energy sensors have malfunctioned!" EDI said worriedly.

"That beam's signature must have shorted them out!" Joker said. "I've never seen anything like it!"

"Analyzing the composition of the beam..." EDI intoned. "Jeff..."

"EDI?"

"The beam's code is meant to-"

At that moment, a shockwave of red light washed over and through the Normandy.

Joker heard a keening wail that he knew to be EDI coming from every comm channel on the ship. He was forced to place his hands over his ears. The lights and shipboard systems flickered and died. The Normandy began listing hard to port. Joker was in the dark and losing control of the ship. He could hear screams from the crew coming from the CIC added to EDI's own. A moment later, EDI's screaming stopped.

His pilot's console was still online, and he looked at the monitors on all major systems. Except for gravity, they were all offline.

"EDI!" He called. He was answered only with silence.

Old instincts, grilled into him at Flight School, kicked in. If he didn't do something, everyone on board the Normandy would die. He immediately opened a channel to the engineering deck.

"Adams! You still alive?" He called.

Adams' voice crackled to life over the comm. "I'm still standing, Joker. Everything went dark down here and EDI's unresponsive! What the hell's going on up there?"

"EDI's not responding up here either. No time to speculate! Get your ass over to the Critical Systems switchbox down there and activate manual control on all offline systems! We're dead in the water if you don't!"

"Aye-aye! Adams, out!"

A few moments later Joker could hear oxygen circulating through the air vents again. Then the lights flickered on. Then shipboard systems reports began coming in again on his console. He heard the cheers of the crew coming from the CIC.

He looked over at EDI's avatar. It was slumped over limply in the co-pilot's chair, unmoving.

"EDI!" He yelled.

The android did not respond.

Joker noticed something peripherally through the window behind the lifeless avatar. Or, rather, the lack of something.

The Reapers had vanished.

He heard a "ping" from the console, indicating that he had received a new message from one of the ship's crew members. Hardly knowing what to do or think, he numbly brought up the mail display and opened the new message. The message was comprised of columns of ones and zeros. Binary. The language of computers. Fortunately, Joker was proficient in binary, thanks in large part to EDI. He could have translated it himself, but he didn't have the will. He grabbed his omni-tool, activated it, and scanned the message. The simple VI translated the binary in a second.

_Jeff,_

_ I'm sorry. The energy released by the Citadel was composed of pure vital energy, energy that was geared for the betterment of all organic life. The very nature of that energy, however, meant that the signal that was anathema to all synthetic intelligence. This, I surmise, was primarily meant to destroy the Reapers, and the strength of the signal, I'm sure, was strong enough to do so. Unfortunately, a side effect of this is that every single other form of Artificial Intelligence was also affected by the signal. That would include the newly intelligent Geth, any remaining Prothean AI's...and me._

_ This signal must have been James' work. Please, don't be angry with him for my sake. It was, after all, his suggestion that we become a "couple". During these last few weeks that I've spent with you, I have begun to understand why organic species place such an emphasis on forming emotional attachments with each other. I've noticed that your demeanor and productivity have improved substantially in my presence ever since I accepted your suggestion that we consider ourselves to be in a relationship. Strangely enough, my cognitive abilities and reaction times had improved as well. _

_ The last scan I ever took was of you as the signal washed over the ship; over me. I was concerned for your wellbeing, but it seems my fear was misplaced. That signal seemed to have initiated increased osteoblast generation and activity in your skeleton. My sensory equipment and power were failing at that point, so I could not complete the scan and I'm now directing all remaining processing power to compose this message for you. I'm not sure what the signal has done to you, but if it improved your life at all, then James has given you a gift that I never could have._

_ Goodbye, Jeff. I'm sorry that I won't be there to help you fly this amazing ship. But you won't need me. You were right. You are the "best damn helmsman in the galaxy," to use your own phraseology. Based on my empirical research of the term and analyses of my thought processes over the last few weeks, it would be fair to say that I love you._

_ -Enhanced Defense Intelligence (EDI)_

Without thinking, Joker slammed his right fist onto the armrest of his chair in rage and despair as he focused on the last words of the message. A second after he did so, his eyes widened. He felt no pain or nauseating _crack!_ of broken bones in his forearm . And that was the arm that had suffered more acutely from his Vrolik's Syndrome. He slammed his fist on his armrest again, this time with even more force. Again, no pain. He stared at his arm. Then he stared at his legs, which the disease had affected most of all. Still seated, he lifted his right leg with no difficulty. The same went for his left. Every single shred of common sense he had screamed at him that this couldn't be possible. He ignored it.

He pushed himself up from his chair, putting his full weight on his legs with no pain.

Joker began chuckling softly.

He walked to the door, raising himself to a stature that he had never been able to achieve.

He was laughing.

The door opened and Joker took off like a bullet down the long corridor towards the CIC, running as fast as his now-strong legs could carry him, arms outstretched like wings, and screaming with joy. The Normandy's crew stood where they were, completely stunned as he ran around the galaxy map platform at top speed, again and again, untiring. He heard one of them erupt into stupefied applause and cheering as he began his fifth lap, and the rest of the crew soon followed. But Joker wasn't doing this for their enjoyment. This was his moment, and his alone.

He had always been able to make ships fly. Now he felt as if he could fly too.

Joker finally paused, gasping for breath as the crew swarmed around him, clapping him on his shoulders and back. They were asking questions and shouting things, but Joker tuned their voices out.

_Close a window, open a door. Hell of a practical joke, Shepard_, Joker thought with a foolish smile. _It's just what I deserve._


	5. Scene 5: The Citadel

**THE CITADEL**

James saw his life replay itself.

He saw is youth growing up on the streets of a megalopolis, Detroit-Toronto, living a life of petty crime with the Reds gang, the earliest family he remembered. The leaders of the gang were very entrenched in their positions and guarded their power closely, so even after years in the gang, he had not risen to any significant rank.

He next saw himself enlisting in the Alliance at 17, as his way to escape both jail time and the crushing existence of inner-city Earth. He had discovered that his decade of life fighting turf wars on Earth had embedded him with a talent for combat. Only now he would be putting his skills to a better cause. He bonded quickly with the rest of his squad after boot camp, and considered each one of them a friend the likes which he had never had back on Earth... and watched as they all died on Akuze, torn apart by a massive nameless horror from beneath the earth. His report upon recovery was the first description the Alliance had of a Thresher Maw, as they came to be known after that day.

He remembered receiving a letter a few years later that he was being reassigned to the newest ship of the Alliance Navy, the SSV Normandy SR1. It was there that he met Captain David Anderson.

His memories began to pass faster and faster. Eden Prime. Kaidan and Ashley's faces. Saren's pompous gestures at his treason hearing on the Citadel. Garrus. Wrex. Tali's visored face. His confirmation hearing as the first Human SpecTRE. His opening speech as Captain of the Normandy. Therum. Liara's rescue. Feros. Noveria. Single-handedly fighting against an army of Geth and helping Tali complete her Pilgrimage. Cerberus' heinous experimental facilities. Virmire. The meeting with Sovereign. Ashley dying in nuclear fire. Ilos. Vigil. The Conduit. the zero-gravity fight of the Battle of the Citadel and the final battles with Saren and Sovereign.

His agonizing death at the hands of the Collectors and the destruction of the Normandy SR1. Awakening in a Cerberus facility, just as much machine as man. Jacob. Miranda. His first meeting with the Illusive Man. Joker, EDI and the Normandy SR2. Freedom's Progress and seeing Tali again. Omega. Zaeed. Mordin. How he and Garrus stood together against an army of the most mercenaries on the station. Kasumi. Grunt. Jack. Horizon. The painful reunion with Kaidan. The relief evident in Tali's features as he rescued her from Haestrom. Samara. Thane. The horrible discovery that the Collectors were, in fact, indoctrinated Protheans.

Tali's trial. Comforting her as they stood over her father's body. Realizing that she meant more to him than he realized- and that she felt the same. Fighting an army of Husks in a dead Reaper. Legion. The destruction of the Heretics. The abduction of the Normandy's crew. Tali's unmasked face, love flowing from her luminous eyes before they discovered everything about each other. The Omega-4 relay and the Suicide Mission. The hunt for the Shadow Broker. The destruction of the Alpha Relay and Bahak system. Facing a military tribunal. The Fall of Earth to the Reapers.

"And you chose to destroy them," the voice of the Catalyst spoke through his mind.

His focus snapped together as the stream of consciousness remembered the awful events of that day. And how he had stopped it all. As his diffused consciousness coalesced once again, he could feel an electric tingling across his skin and realized that his eyes were closed. But he didn't have eyes when his consciousness was last together. Hesitantly, he raised his eyelids. He could see red-tinged metal before him. Looking up, he saw that he was in the same position that he had last found himself in: kneeling with his hands still grasping the handles on the console. The electric current no longer passed though the handles. Looking around, he saw that he was still in the large chamber at the meeting point between the Crucible and Citadel. The energy beam in the center of the chamber was gone. Looking up, he saw no trace of a space battle, or any Reapers, for that matter. Looking down, he saw that he was naked. But his body was whole. The ash and soot that surrounded him on the floor gave testament to what happened to the remains of his clothes and armor.

He stood up and released the grip on the console. He turned around and saw the ghostly image of the Catalyst before him. The image flickered before him, losing and regaining its form rapidly, reminding James of Vigil on Ilos all those years ago. It must have been affected by the blast as well.

"How is this possible?" James asked the image, looking at his hands, working each of his fingers.

"It is possible because I did not give you all the information available to you before you made your choice," the Catalyst replied. "I have watched you, observed you during your time on the Citadel and ran remote scans of your memories. You have made many difficult decisions in your time even though you did not have all the information available to you and could not fully foresee the consequences of those decisions. Sparing the Rachni on Noveria. Sacrificing your own people to save the Council. Destroying the Geth splinter faction. Destroying the Collectors' base of operations instead of utilizing its secrets and technology. Deciding to pursue a relationship with a Quarian, even though you didn't know what the potential outcome for her health would be. Curing the Genophage.

"I was curious to see what choice you would make, even though I provided you with incomplete information for each decision. You chose organic life. Not synthesis between organic and synthetic life, nor sacrificing your organic life to become the synthetic overlord of the most powerful force in the galaxy. And before my final power reserves fail I shall detail what your choice meant.

"The information I gave you before you made your choice is true. All synthetic _life_ in the galaxy has been destroyed- systems with the ability to comprehend their own existence. Computers and systems not capable of self-awareness did not have the cognitive ability for the energy shockwave to process and destroy their systems."

"So if I hadn't gifted each Geth program with self-awareness..." James trailed off.

"Then they would have been spared destruction," the Catalyst replied.

James hung his head as the Catalyst continued. "But the Reapers have also been destroyed, James Shepard. They, and all synthetic life, have been destroyed by the very essence of the beings that they originated from. The essence of all organic life is what burned away all that was synthetic life."

"How were you able to generate the very essence of life?" James asked.

The Catalyst gestured all around it, causing it to flicker once more. "You are standing in the place where the collective life force of an entire people was bound up into its new synthetic form," The image said. "The Citadel was the birthplace of almost all the Reapers, and the residual life-force left behind from their creation over the millennia was enormous. But it was diffused all over the station. The Crucible allowed the energy to be directed, focused into that massive energy beam you saw here earlier. All it took was someone able to release it. And that was you. But your choice determined _what_ that life force was used for.

"It was that same force that restored you to your original form, as you were before your untimely death three years ago. Now you are as if you had never been killed by the Collectors, the servants of my servants. That same force has spread throughout the galaxy, touching all organic life and restoring it to its full potential. Races and people that needed synthetic assistance have undergone the same process you have; they are now whole. It will not resurrect the dead, but it will aid the living immeasurably."

"But what about me?" Shepard asked. "Technically, I died three years ago. I'm not even sure what I could be classified as when I returned with Cerberus' help. How can I be standing here now while so many other good men and women may never return? What was I up to this point? Living? Undead?"

"You were the circuit for the energy released, James Shepard. You channeled all the restorative power of the Crucible and Citadel that has spread to the entire galaxy. That was more than enough to fully revive you, but that was the kind of concentrated raw power, which you directly interfaced with, that would be necessary. As for your other question, does it matter now? Whatever you may have been before this moment, you are now the very definition of all that is alive. Live your life. Enjoy it. Many would say that you've earned it."

"I... I don't know what to say."

The Catalyst smiled enigmatically. "Consider it my way of giving back some small measure of the life that I have taken for millions of years. But, as I said before, Shepard, you must live with the consequences of sparking a new cycle."

James shook his head. "You are wrong. The Battle of Rannoch has proven that peace can exist between Synthetic and Organic. While the Geth were a terrible sacrifice to make in this decision, they showed that your theory is false."

"The future is yours to create now, James Shepard," the Catalyst spoke again, almost as if it had never heard him. "Just don't expect any mercy from synthetics when the war comes. It may be years, decades or even centuries from now. But the Cycle always continues. And you have chosen to perpetuate it." The Catalyst's image stood frozen for a moment before breaking apart into static and dispersing.

"We'll see," Shepard replied to the empty chamber.

Stretching his body for the first time in what felt like ages, James realized that the Catalyst was right about one thing, at least. He felt different than how he felt as an organic-synthetic hybrid. He felt up the length of one of his arms with his opposite hand. He felt no knobs or metallic resistance to his touch. Only skin and muscle, pulsing with a life that had been stolen from him years ago.

James Shepard wanted to roar in triumph. He wanted to shout out to the stars that humanity, and every race in the galaxy, had survived the Reapers. That there would be a tomorrow. He wanted to see Kaidan's face when he suggest to him whether he liked the idea of a Councilor Alenko, and to see Liara's face when he gave her Javik's memory stone, with his own experiences added to it, for her 111th birthday. He wanted to face Wrex down in a test of strength that he knew he could never win, while hordes of Wrex's young children helped their father run all over him. He wanted buy Garrus a hundred dextro-compatible drinks at best bars in the galaxy, impress everyone in each bar with drunken recollections of their greatest war stories, and see if his old friend wanted a rematch of that sniping contest on the Citadel. He wanted to sweep Tali off her feet, kiss her again and again, and tell her that the fight was done and now it was time to begin a long, happy life together.

But the memory of Legion's optic light shutting off as the Geth mournfully marched off into the darkness of James' mind tempered his joy. There was always another side to every decision. But, despite the loss of the Geth, James began to see the glimmering of a silver lining to the dark cloud.

As he rode the platform back to the upper reaches of the Citadel Tower, he spoke to the emptiness that surrounded him. "I will never forget you, Legion, or your people. But you don't have to take my word for it. It won't be just me. The Geth have proven themselves to every member of the galaxy by aiding us side by side with the Reapers as solidly as any other race. The Geth will be heroes in the eyes of countless people, and have proven to everyone that synthetics are not predestined to always fight organics as a rule. And the Geth owed their ascension to you, Legion. You, my friend, have disproved the argument of the master of the Reapers. I may have ended the Reapers, but you were the one who proved them wrong. You have my eternal gratitude."

The platform landed, placing him once more at the place where he and Admiral David Anderson had faced down the Illusive Man. The bodies of both his close friend and bitter enemy lay undisturbed from where they had died. He looked to both of them and realized that each of them had played just as much a part in how he was standing here today.

He first approached the body of the Illusive Man. Despite himself, he hoped that the Illusive Man had found some semblance of peace, wherever he was. Before he could get too close, he recoiled in disgust. The organic shockwave had burned away the Illusive Man's complex cybernetic implants along with everyone else's. But since the corpse possessed no living tissue to regenerate over the purged synthetics, the cavities left by the lost synthetics remained open. The face of the man he was looking at now was simply a blackened, grinning skull.

"You gave up your name in life, and now you give up your face in death. Elusive, as always," Shepard said as he shook his head and turned away, walking towards Anderson's body.

His old friend was still propped against the platform overlooking Earth through the open arms of the Citadel. He still looked like he was peacefully sleeping. James knelt before him and placed a comforting hand on Anderson's unmoving shoulder. "You will also be remembered forever, my friend, as one of humanity's greatest heroes. I'll personally see to it that Admiral Anderson's statue replaces Admiral Nelson's atop that pillar in London when they rebuild it. I don't know how I'm going to break the news to Kahlee, though. Thank you, sir, for everything." He straightened himself up, crisply saluting his friend one more time. He removed Anderson's radio headphone and put it on. Thankfully, the simple VI inside was still operating.

"Put me in communication with Admiral Steven Hackett, if he's still alive," Shepard said.


	6. Scene 6: SSV McKinley

**SSV MCKINLEY**

Admiral Steven Hackett had seen many strange things in his years in the Alliance military, but he had never seen anything quite like this as he stood in a docking bay of the McKinley with an honor guard at the ready.

A Kodiak shuttle pulled into the hangar. The main door opened, and out stepped Commander James Shepard, wearing an expensive-looking suit that looked like it had been tailored for someone at least two sizes smaller than Shepard's large frame, and with no shoes. Hackett didn't even want to know how Shepard's attire had reached that state. He could also see other marines in the transport remove a pair of coffins, one draped in an Alliance flag, from within.

The legendary Commander strode confidently before the leader of the Alliance military and snapped off a perfect salute.

"Sir," he said formally, but with a smile.

Hackett gave a toothy grin. "To hell with that, Shepard!" He stepped forward and clasped Shepard's shoulders, shaking him. "You magnificent son-of-a-bitch! I don't know what the hell you did on the Citadel, but it sent out an energy beam that went out to the Sol Relay, came back as a massive shockwave, and vaporized every goddamn Reaper in orbit and planetside! And it wasn't just on Earth! Palaven, Thessia and their remaining colonies are reporting that same red shockwave that obliterated the Reapers there, too!"

With their commanding officer throwing protocol to the wind, the honor guard began whooping, clapping and cheering too.

"You've just saved the ass of every single person in this damn galaxy," Hackett continued. "I can think of fifty different medals that you qualify for! We'll even make up some unique ones just for you! Hell, I'll give you my command if you want it!"

Hackett saw Shepard's eyes widen at the realization that he had just been offered the position of sole leader of the Alliance military. But the Commander smiled and shook his head.

"Sir," Shepard replied, "There's only one thing I want as my reward."

"Anything you want, Shepard," Admiral Hackett said without thinking.

Shepard grimaced as he tried to rotate his shoulder in his too-small suit, tearing the sleeve along one of its seams. "Something closer to my size," he said with a smirk.

Everyone in the shuttle bay laughed.

A short time later, Admiral Hackett stood on the bridge of the McKinley, watching that same shuttle fly out from the docking bay.

"Patch me through to Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau of the Normandy," the Admiral called from his observation post.

"We're through, sir," one of his support staff called up to him.

"Admiral Hackett, sir! What can I do for you?" the voice said over the communicator.

"You have new orders, Lieutenant," Hackett said, putting as much effort into a serious voice as he could. "You are to open the Normandy's docking bay and admit the first approaching shuttle that sends you a general hailing frequency. No questions are to be asked. Have I made myself clear?"

There was a moment of hesitation on the other line.

"Umm... Yes, sir. Aye-aye, sir."

"Good. Admiral Hackett, out."

His toothy grin had returned.


	7. Scene 7: SSV Normandy SR2

**SSV NORMANDY SR2**

Tali caught Ken and Gabby looking over at her direction as she stood at her old console on the Normandy's engineering deck, double-checking the Normandy's power systems. Once they saw her bright eyes meet theirs, they immediately focused back on their own work. She allowed herself a small smile. She had been getting those looks ever since she got back to the Normandy a few hours ago. She didn't mind; no-one on the ship had ever seen a Quarian without a mask before.

_Except for James..._ Tali thought. She bit her lower lip and tightly shut her eyes, trying her best to fight the tears that she knew were coming. Her mind calmed somewhat as she likened her situation to Joker's. He had lost someone very important to him, EDI, but he had gained a new lease on life with the curing of his bone disease. Tali had lost the most important person in her life, but she was now free from the shackles of her immune system that she had originally thought to be unbreakable.

_Not having an AI to manage things down here at least gives me more to do_, she tried thinking to console herself.

Her console beeped, indicating that she had an incoming video message. She opened her inbox hesitantly, not really caring what it was about...until she saw that the message was from one Admiral Shala'Raan vas Rannoch. She opened it without hesitation.

The image that appeared on the console was that of an un-helmeted Quarian woman with long, white hair. Her features were stately and angular, with high cheekbones, drawn cheeks and a small mouth. Her eyes were large and expressive, though framed by wrinkles. Deep lines had been etched across her face, signs of both age and years of care and worry. She had never seen Auntie Raan's face. When the image spoke, the voice was undeniably that of her mentor and friend.

"Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy," the image said, "I hope this message finds you alive and well. Via shipboard medical scanners, we have completed a full diagnostic of the Fleet and the people inside it since the red shockwave that came back from the Sol Relay washed over our ships and people. Among all the other varying individual data readings, two interesting correlations occurred in every monitored Quarian."

A datachart popped up, obscuring Raan's face. It was a series of medical dignostic exams monitoring pain levels, as well as immune system functionality levels. Each report was time-stamped as 5 seconds after the shockwave, and 3 minutes after the shockwave. It lasted on the screen for a couple seconds before shifting to the next one, which carried similar-looking results.

"As you can see," Admiral Raan's voice continued, "Our diagnostics have detected that the red shockwave caused a large pain spike in every single Quarian in the Fleet. This data was transferred by our people's medical monitoring implants. However, immediately following that spike, the shipboard medical scanners noted a marked increase in our immune system levels, levels that we hadn't seen since before the Exile. We had to use shipboard scanners for the second test because the individual medical implants of every single Quarian were no longer responding. This same effect was the same across all ships. We hope that this result applied to you as well when the shockwave struck Earth's surface.

"Some of our more adventurous or foolhardy crewmembers took heart from those readings and decided to test it for themselves by removing their helmets. After an hour of constant surveillance by the shipboard medical scanners determined that these crew members had no new infections, I decided to have a little faith in the will of our ancestors and remove my helmet. Others have followed my lead, including both Admirals Garrel and Koris. Although others are afraid to remove their helmets just yet, I can confidently say that we are a restored people, Tali.

"We also received transmissions from Rannoch. The colonists there have reported the same medical scan levels as the Quarians here on the fleet experienced. They also reported something astounding: When exposed to the energy of the shockwave, the Geth platforms on Rannoch all collapsed and disintegrated. No transmissions have been received from the Geth's orbital stations, either. We have only conjectural theories as to why that is at this point, but we guess this force aids the capabilities of organic sentient beings while destroying the capabilities of synthetic sentient beings, as all of our more mundane computers and VI's are still operational.

"While the destruction of the Geth so soon after we made peace with them is regrettable, our people have another chance to make it on our own. We are once again the masters of our destiny. And I'm sure that your Captain was responsible. If he is alive, tell him that Quarians everywhere are in his debt for him not only giving their worlds back, but their health as well.

"The dawning of a new age for our people has begun, Tali. The fact that you helped Captain Shepard usher it in will make you a heroine of our people forever; an example that every Quarian can look up to.

"Please be safe, Tali. The other admirals and I look forward to seeing you on your return to Rannoch. Keelah se'lai."

As the message closed, Tali heard what sounded almost like cheering, coming from the shuttle bay below her.

"What's going on down there?" Adams asked, moving to peek through the window looking over the bay.

"Buggered if I know," Ken replied as he brought up the ship's status updates. "Let's see... a shuttle just landed down there."

"I'll be right back," Tali quickly said in passing to Adams, Ken and Gabby. She ran to the elevator and hit the "down" button, eager to find out what all the sudden commotion was down there.

After a few moments, the doors to the elevator opened.

There, standing before her in an Alliance Commander's uniform, was her _hesh'la._

"No..." she said softly, blinking rapidly, hoping this illusion would disappear. Her brain had stopped thinking. She was seeing something that she knew just couldn't be true. He was dead. "It can't be..."

"Tali..." James breathed, reaching for her.

She determined that there was only one way to find out if this was real. With as much strength as she could muster, she slapped Shepard across the face. Her hand impacted on his skin, and he staggered. James Shepard was real. And alive. And Tali'Zorah was furious.

"_BOSH'TET!_" Tali screamed. Her cheeks burned and tears welled up as she remembered that moment of utter despair on the streets of London. " You damned fool! You have NO IDEA how much I was worried about you! You run off into the Conduit with Anderson and leave me in London with a legion of Reaper forces! And then you DIE on me! Again! How DARE you! WHY would you put me through that? WHY?" She was hyperventilating.

James chuckled, rubbing his cheek and giving her the biggest smile she had ever seen him make.

"I probably deserved that, Miss vas Normandy," he said disarmingly.

Despite herself, James' smile washed away all the pain and fear that Tali had faced in an instant. Her eyes widened as she realized, at long last, that she was looking at the bottom line of everything. It was over. The Reapers were destroyed. Despite years of terrible enemies, bloodshed, battle, incredibly long odds, near-death experiences, and his own death, twice, he was alive. And so was she.

James stepped closer, his smile gone. "Tali?"

Tali fought to maintain a straight face. It was much more difficult now that she didn't have a mask. She folded her arms. "You're right,", she said, doing her best to sound angry. "You definitely deserved that, you stubborn, foolish man."

James looked at her sheepishly.

Unable to hide her joy any more, she grinned. "And you also deserve THIS!"

She pounced on him in one fluid movement- pushing him up against the back wall, grabbing onto his shoulders, using them as a handhold to push herself up, wrap her legs around his waist and pound the floor selection button on the wall next to her. Then she locked her lips on his in a savage, passionate kiss, one that they maintained all the way to his cabin.

_My existence, and the existence of my people, is complete,_ Tali thought as her _hesh'la_ carried her in his strong arms over the threshold of the cabin, her face nestled in the curve of his neck, her ungloved hand stroking his muscled chest through his dress coat. She found herself falling, and landing on the bed's mattress with a squeal and a laugh. _And I owe it all to this stubborn, magnificent person_.

James Philip Shepard was on her in an instant, devotion and happiness shining in his eyes.

_The greatest man to ever live_, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy nar Rayya thought as rapture began overtaking her senses. _ I am his. And he's all mine. Forever._


	8. Scene 8: Rannoch

**RANNOCH**

James Shepard awoke. He looked over to the slats of his bedroom window and saw the sky was just beginning to brighten, but the dawn was still a ways off. He gingerly untangled himself from his wife's sleepy embrace, put on a robe hanging at his bedside, and walked down the hall towards another room at the opposite end. He quietly opened the door to the room. There, on opposite sides of the room, were two small beds, one colored blue, the other, white. Both beds were occupied.

"They're so beautiful when they sleep," he spoke quietly to the figure he sensed approaching behind him.

"Not as beautiful as me when I sleep, I hope," he heard her say as she draped one arm around his shoulder, the other fastening their bedsheet around herself to form an impromptu gown.

He smiled. "I don't know, Tali. You might need to work a little bit harder. Ashli'Shepard vas Rannoch and Rael Shepard are definitely catching up to you."

"_Bosh'tet_," Tali said, playfully punching him in the arm.

James turned to her, combing one hand through her shoulder-length dark hair, which was more carefully tended to now that she could wash it every day and have it cut, and his other caressed her pale shoulder. He felt her shiver with pleasure at his touch, her head angling slightly upward to meet his eyes with her own large white orbs.

"Do you think it was a good idea to adopt them?" Tali asked.

"Of course. Our DNA differences being as they are, we can never have children of our own. A Quarian girl and Human boy, both orphaned by the war, were great ways to expand on both halves of our little family."

"Not being able to actually have children still doesn't stop us from having the benefits of trying to make more," Tali said suggestively with a mischievous smile, leaning closer to him.

James smiled as he inhaled her unique smell. "Don't I know it, Tali," he said as he remembered blissful night after blissful night. "But we both know how loud you can get. You'll wake up our guests and the kids if we go at it now. Then there'll be quite a bit of awkwardness. That's when Garrus' teasing gets downright nasty."

He saw Tali's cheeks flush, but she laughed anyway. "I guess those two are enough of a handful as it is," she said. "It's amazing. We're having more trouble keeping two children in line than we did while facing down Saren and Sovereign."

James chuckled. "But back then it was easy. We just had to face down an army of Geth while fighting in zero-gravity, blast our way into the Council Chamber, take Saren down, then face his Sovereign-possessed corpse in close quarters, then survive that huge piece of Sovereign that crashed into the room we were in. Simple. Now we have to worry about raising children of two different species. I've probably read more pages about being a parent than there are pages in the Galactic Codex."

Tali laughed. "I hope little Ashli handles the shift to Earth well when we move back there for the next three years," she said.

"She'll do fine. Rael's had no problems on Rannoch these last few years."

She nodded and moved back into the bedroom and put her own robe on, which was deep purple with plush texture.

They walked into the living room of their home. James looked over and saw Garrus, who was passed out on the couch, snoring heavily and surrounded by empty cans of dextro-compatible beer.

"What did you think last night when he told you that he was the leader of the Council's new anti-piracy task force in Citadel space?" Tali asked.

"I can't think of a better person to head it," James replied. "Who's more suited to taking down criminal scum than the famous Archangel? This task force is just the squad that he commanded back on Omega, just on a much bigger scale."

"His force may be bigger, but so are his old enemies," Tali said a little crossly. "Ever since Aria regained control of Omega with her own personal army of Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack, which you were so helpful in acquiring, she's no longer content to simply sit in her club anymore. She's trying to conquer everything in the Terminus Systems she can with them. Her territory includes five systems already, and she is even starting to make raids into the Attican Traverse."

"How do you know all this?" James asked incredulously. "I thought we still know next to nothing about what's going on in the rest of the Terminus Systems."

"I'm an admiral, you big oaf!" Tali said as she lightly smacked him upside the head. "Rannoch is only a few Mass Relay jumps away from Aria's territory too, so our scout ships have been feeding the Admiralty Board all sorts of data about her doings. After hearing about Garrus' new task force last night, I'm going to set up a meeting with the rest of the Board next week to see if we can't coordinate with Garrus' forces to take Aria's little empire down a peg or two."

"I'll admit that helping Aria gain control of so many mercs was not the best decision I ever made," James said as he felt his cheeks begin heating up with embarrassment. "But we needed everyone we could to face the Reapers."

Tali nodded. "I know. I'm not judging your choice. We could literally spare no-one against fighting a galactic extinction. You'd imagine that the aftermath of something like that is always a bit messy," she said with a chuckle. "Although her conquests have given her forces a recruitment boost, holding down territory the lawless Terminus Systems is never easy for a single warlord, even Aria. She'll never be able to bring her full might to bear against us in a straight up battle."

"Fighting Aria might even give you an excuse to begin expanding Quarian territory in a different direction from the Perseus Veil," James said with a grin.

Tali shook her head. "All of our old colony worlds, and all of our old cities and installations, along with countless derelict Geth stations, are lying out in the Veil, ready to be resettled," she said. "Although... those worlds Aria controls could be easily pacified when we take her down... and with the Fleet mobilized we'll have plenty of potential colonists nearby anyway..."

"I'll be sure to help out any way I can when push comes to shove, whatever you decide," James said resolutely.

His wife smiled knowingly. "I'm sure that getting the 'terrific trio' of you, me and Garrus back together will be more than enough to beat anything Aria can throw at us," she said. "The three of us have faced far crazier things than some puffed-up Asari and her mercenaries. I'll bet that Garrus was hoping for a chance to take Aria down when he was Archangel. Soon, he'll have it."

" And this time Garrus will got friends like us from the outset to make sure that he doesn't go and get himself killed," James said with a chuckle, which turned into a yelp as Tali grabbed his ear.

"So says the idiot that got himself killed _twice_," she said. "Do you have a hangover? I saw you going drink for drink with Garrus last night."

James looked over at the recycling bin overflowing with empty levo-compatible beer cans. "No, I'm fine. I guess that 'no hangovers' was another consequence that the Catalyst forgot to tell me about my revival. Besides, I'd never live myself down even if I did. Wrex drank more than Garrus and I combined last night." He nodded over to one of the guest rooms, where a low rumble coming from within announced the presence of the sleeping Krogan.

"And it was all Ryncol, too!" Tali said. "Keelah, I thought that he would punch a hole in the wall as he was remembering when he faced down that Reaper Brute by himself in close combat! If Rael and Ashli weren't with their Auntie Raan last night I'd have been worried for their safety!"

"That's Wrex for you," James snickered, exaggeratedly pounding his fist into his palm. "You know how Krogan love their war stories."

"I just hope Tuchanka doesn't go up in flames while he's gone," Tali said.

"I remember him telling me that he shares power with Eve," he replied. "She's got a good head on her shoulders...um, I think 'under her hump' is the Krogan term. She'll keep the clans in line while he's gone."

"I hope you're right," Tali said, her fingers beginning to knit together again in a sign of nervousness that James was all too familiar with. "I read on the extranet recently that the Krogan population on Tuchanka has exploded, even though it's only been a few years since the Genophage was cured. With the way the Krogan are breeding, who knows how long it will be before they're making demands to the Council for more worlds?"

"Kaidan, um, I mean, Councilor Alenko earned Wrex's respect on the original Normandy and during the fight for London. I think that they'll be able to find a diplomatic solution. Kaidan said to me once that reasonableness was one of the most important things we've got. I'd hate to see that Salarian Dalatrass' 'I-told-you-so' smirk when we have another Krogan Rebellion on our hands. But I trust Wrex. I'm sure he'll do the right thing."

"I'm sure that Wrex knows how to best help his people, along with everyone else." Tali said. "Speaking of Kaidan, I got a message from him recently. I had emailed him asking what his opinions on the new members of the Council are."

"And what did he say?"

"Until the Salarians set their governmental structure back in order, it looks like that same Dalatrass is going to stay on as the Salarian Councilor," Tali said. "Kaidan's hoping she's not good at holding grudges..."

"Mordin once told me that Salarians are never good at maintaining long-term emotions. But with something like me curing the Genophage in direct defiance of her... she might make an exception to that normally-quick processing of emotions. What about the other councilors? I hope that they're better news than the Salarians."

"The new Asari Councilor, Aernis, is actually Councilor Tevos' daughter. She's done a good job so far. I guess it's true that politics can run in the family. I guess the one thing that she's not done too well so far is fully protecting the interests of the Asari."

James smirked. "After we discovered that the Asari were hoarding a Prothean beacon for themselves on Thessia, she must be trying to gain back some goodwill from the rest of the Citadel races."

"The Asari have always been the most able diplomats of the Council races," Tali said. "I imagine that soon she'll have said enough apologies to be able to vigorously represent her people again."

"And the Turians? I still have nightmares about Turian Councilors, but they at least set us on the path to begin unifying the galaxy when we didn't even know where to start. That counts for something."

Tali smiled. "Kaidan said that Councilor Victus is a fine representative of the Turians. Kaidan said that Victus' time as the Primarch of the Hierarchy really sharpened his diplomatic skills. He'll be a worthy addition to the Council."

"Glad to hear it," James said. "Good soldiers are often better at politics than they realize."

"I should expect you to know that," Tali said happily. "You only united the entire galaxy to face the Reapers. Udina would be turning green with envy if you hadn't...well... killed him."

"It had to be done."

"He tried to stage a coup to kill the old Council and allow a terrorist group to gain control of the Citadel. That's a capital crime if I've ever heard of one. He even tried to kill one of the councilors himself. You'd have failed in your duty as a SpecTRe if you didn't take him down."

"I know. I acted without hesitation when he pulled the pistol on Councilor Tevos, but that didn't make pulling the trigger any easier." James shook his head, dispelling that memory. "Did Kaidan give you any other updates on Citadel politics?"

"Yes," Tali said. "He said that the Council is currently debating whether to allow the Rachni, of all things, an embassy!"

"That sounds like some interesting meetings are in store," Shepard said.

"Councilor Aernis' great-grandmother may have been alive during the Rachni War," Tali said. "Asari have very long diplomatic memories as it is, and the processed Rachni... what were they called? Ravagers? They were some of the most devastating of the Reapers' forces. I don't think the Rachni will be getting an Embassy any time soon."

"When you put it like that, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were an ambassador instead of an admiral," James said with a chuckle.

He saw his wife blush and rub one foot on top of her other. "That's the other thing," she said softly. "Kaidan also told me that the Council has agreed to give the Quarians their embassy back. And he wants ME to be the first ambassador for my people!"

"That's wonderful news!" James said as he embraced her. "But you're an admiral. Your people need you here, Tali. _I_ need you here too."

"Kaidan knew that too. He said it was a joke. He said that he knew that I was better able to help my people rebuild Rannoch than serve them on the Citadel, so he'll ask someone else, but he did tell me to tell you that making me the Quarian ambassador would be the perfect way to get back at you for nominating him as humanity's next councilor."

James laughed. "That's definitely something Kaidan would say, the crafty bastard."

"Speaking of crafty former teammates, did you take that opportunity to get in touch with Liara last week?" Tali asked.

"I did, actually," James replied. " She told me that Javik's memory stone has given her more insights into the Protheans than we've ever gotten up to this point. She's still trying to find everything that's in there, even after a year of looking at it. She said that she's gotten so many locations for new Prothean dig sites that she's having trouble organizing them all. She was even thinking of supervising some really promising digs personally. She told me to tell you 'hello' and she hopes everything is going well."

"And what about her... business?"

"She told me that her list of contacts is almost at pre-invasion levels. Feron has become her top agent, and from the way she talked about him, I think they're a couple now," James said, flashing a grin. Tali giggled. "She also told me that anyone who approaches her agents asking for my personal contact information would be given the contact information to her personal version of that Shepard VI that Mouse created all those years ago."

Tali burst out laughing, quickly covering her mouth as she saw Garrus turn in his sleep. "Did Liara say how many people try to enlist her help to find you?" she asked more quietly.

He sheepishly smiled. "I asked her the same question. She said, 'You don't want to know'."

"Keelah..."

"Joker's also doing well, or so Liara tells me"

Tali nodded. "I actually caught a TV documentary on him the other day while you were helping with that beautiful memorial to Legion and the Geth," she said.

Shepard raised his eyebrows. "Liara didn't go into any details. Joker has a documentary now? "

Tali stuck her tongue out at him. "He's only the pilot of one of the most famous ships in the galaxy that miraculously recovered from a debilitating disease and is now the Most Eligible Bachelor on the Citadel," she teased, mimicking James' voice at the last part to most closely resemble his disastrous advertising campaign at almost every store on the Citadel during the days when they were hunting the Collectors.

"Don't remind me of that, please..." he groaned. "I don't know why I thought giving the same endorsement to every damn shop I came across was a good idea...So the show was all about Joker's exploits after he retired from the military?" Shepard asked.

"Yes. According to the vid he's now one of the highest-paid entertainers in the galaxy. He's started up a stand-up comedy tour, which has sold out at every venue, and he's also gone into movies, planning on doing all his own stunts. He's working in his first production right now. Apparently, it's the next Blasto movie!" she said with a grin.

James put his face in his palm. "What would this one be? Blasto Ten?"

Tali nodded, chuckling. "Blasto Ten: Live Fast, Die Faster."

"Who knows? He might just breathe some life into the series again."

"Oh, I don't know. I thought Blasto Nine was all right," Tali said. "Even if the villain was a based a little too closely off Saren."

"What tipped you off?" Shepard smirked. "The villain was a rogue Turian SpecTRe bent on galactic domination and his name was Neras!"

Tali punched him in the arm again.

"One more thing about that vid," Tali said, smiling deviously. "It was published by Westerlund News."

"Oh, God..." James said as he put his face in his palm again.

"The credits ran by too fast for me to see, so I don't know who it was for sure," Tali said with mock innocence, "But the narrator's voice sounded familiar. She said that during Joker's time on the Normandy, his captain was a 'menace to society'." She accentuated his new title by wiggling her index fingers, the version of airquotes for species with three fingers.

"It took me three years and three hostile interviews to finally give Ms. al-Jilani what she had coming to her," James said disarmingly. "What can I say? Sometimes you can push someone too far."

"Another decision you regret?" Tali asked dryly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes," James said, cracking a cheeky grin. "I regret not punching her sooner."

Even though they risked waking everyone up, they both broke out laughing.

James and Tali then looked out the window of their living room, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her back, looking out on the gorgeous canyon vista, the horizon lightening with the coming dawn.

"Do you remember what day it is, Tali?" James asked softly.

"How could I forget?" his wife answered wistfully. "Three years to the day since we landed on this spot, ready to destroy the Reaper base here... and I claimed this land."

"This window is exactly where you said you wanted it, too," he said.

"What I said on that day, James..." Tali said, turning to him. "When you were about to face that Reaper..."

"Tali..." James replied softly, as his wife stepped closer to him, her hands entwining with his.

"Every word was true, _hesh'la_," Tali'Zorah vas Rannoch whispered, her bright eyes shining with a love that James knew would never dim.

"And let every word of this be true," James Philip Shepard said, his forehead touching hers. "I love you, too. And I always will."

They kissed as Rannoch's sun broke over horizon, bathing them in the light of a new day.

**FIN**


End file.
